Feelgood Habits
by Sleeveen
Summary: (IDW MTMTE) Smashing a bunch of prompts together ended up with this: Tarn and Kaon share a moment indulging in some happiness.


Kaon could hear him from where he was kneeling, metal band fitted over his helm and where his eyes could have been, blocking off any and all additional visual sensors he might've been in possession of. It seemed apt; sound was Tarn's weapon of choice and he used it well, but it was also the sense he found the most decadent, which he could torture the most sensually.

That may not have been the point of this private exercise, but even blind, Kaon relished the gesture of being allowed to be part of Tarn's ritual. There was something in the way the sight deprivation made the rest of his sensors strain for more stimuli – _more sound_.

Tarn moaned, going through another transformation; Kaon listening to the susurration of metal pieces gliding and shifting over themselves.

"What does it feel like?" he murmured.

Tarn liked to talk, indulging himself as much as Kaon, letting them both hear the way his voice filled the room. Even husky, with that rare rougher burr to it, his voice was still beyond provocative. Before Tarn, Kaon had never heard anything like it, had never known that they as as species could produce tones so layered.

"Like nothing you could imagine," and the words floated free of Tarn's mouth to lushly fill the emptiness of silent air.

Kaon tried to hold himself still, waiting for more, but Tarn's only response was the cycling of his systems as they sought a new equilibrium. "Can I touch you now?" Kaon whispered, crawling across the room – by feel alone – when he couldn't wait any longer.

Tarn didn't reply; too busy throwing himself through another change.

Kaon edged nearer until he was close enough to feel the heat radiating from overstressed plating. Tarn pushed his body too hard, past its breaking point and then further. If he'd been built any less durable, his metal would've buckled from the heat and strain hours ago, but Tarn was a tank, and beyond that he was the leader of the DJD; powered by more than just his spark and engine. Tarn was animated by a fiery purpose and driven by a molten strength. Any body would be unable to contain all of that, and under the burden of that ambition, organs would sometimes fail. Kaon had seen it before, he knew the signs. Even with the blindings, he knew there would be smoke rising from between Tarn's seams by now. The T-cog wouldn't last much longer. If Kaon were to reach out, he would have burned his hands.

"Can I touch you now?" He whispered again, head bowing to speak close to where he hoped his leader's helm would be. Either way, the air pushed through his mouth and vents would feel cool against Tarn's body he knew, no matter what it was he was breathing against.

"_You may._"

Sliding sensitive palms forward those last few inches, Kaon's fingers wrapped around whatever they first came in contact with. _Ah, he'd guessed right,_ this was Tarn's throat, and this his chin. Without the mask, Kaon was free to slide his fingertips over Tarn's face, to explore a nose ridge, eyes, cheeks, and lips he knew through touch only.

Tarn's mouth moved against where they met the edges of his hands, shaping silent words Kaon didn't recognise. Maybe they were lyrics to one of Tarn's melodies, or maybe they were the words to something greater, something even more important; something only Tarn could understand with his unsurpassable mastery of sound, language and meaning.

Smoothing a hand over his leader's lips, Tarn continued his silent litany, pressing the words into the conductor of Kaon's palm as it moved past, leaving Kaon wanting nothing more than to dip his fingers into that open, malleable mouth and feel the tongue. But he'd not been given permission so he moved past to skim over the jagged surface of old damage instead.

Tarn made a small noise as Kaon brushed the raw circuitry below his left eye, unprotected by an epidermal covering that had never been repaired. Curling one finger, Kaon dragged his knuckle over the wound and Tarn made the sound again, shifting Kaon's limb as his head fell back. Kaon's felt, from where his hand had fallen, thumb resting on one optic, the shutters of Tarn's eyes fall closed.

"I'm going to transform again," Tarn panted, voice thick with the anticipation for the next hit.

Obediently Kaon's hands retreated to his lap as he scooted back to give his leader space. Tarn shifted again, twice in quick succession this time, and there was a dry, grinding noise that some part of Kaon would never get used to as Tarn's latest cog burnt out, scraping to a halt.

Tarn collapsed to the ground, rolling over onto his back, a smaller shoulder canon bumping against Kaon's knee as he laughed –– this beautiful, breathless, and completely joyous sound.

"Tarn, please, can I –_ I need_," Kaon said, stumbling over the words, fists bunched restlessly in his lap as he held himself in check to keep from pulling Tarn's warm, warm body closer to towards himself. "Let me –?" Electricity curled over the coils of his shoulders, fitful and anxious. It wanted to ground itself in someone, and Kaon wanted so badly to reach out.

"Go ahead," Tarn said, rich voice still laughing and somehow trickling joy straight down his spine.

Kaon was back beside him in an instant, body cleaving into the larger one, his head coming to rest over Tarn's chest, fingers splayed over his leader's sides. As Tarn panted, sucking in air to cool himself, the rise and fall of his torso lifted Kaon's entire body with it, and he could feel the vibrations of Tarn's voice as he just kept laughing, pleased and contented.

"What does it feel like? Tell me again," Kaon heard himself demand, desperate to take away more of Tarn's experience for himself.

"The flux of plates against each other is a sensation that surpasses what you can understand. There's a moment between forms, a precipice of possibility where you hang suspended before seizing a new configuration and locking into it. Sensory systems realigning, reforging your body into something meant for a new purpose... it's breathtaking. _**Exhilarating**_. There's an unimaginable freedom in those scant seconds where you don't possess shape," Tarn breathed. "I pity our comrades who won't ever feel this. There's no other experience like it."

Kaon drank in the words, letting them wash over his paltry frame to fill his spark with both light, and an envy he was glad to have.

Tarn gave a languid stretch that Kaon felt all along his own body before an arm flopped over lazily, to circle his much slimmer shoulders. One large hand closed over a coil spire and the electricity that had gathered there discharged between Tarns fingers with an unexpected crackle, stinging them both. Little arcs of static would be racing up Tarn's wrists now to disappear into his plating and internals Kaon knew, he could see it in his mind's eye and it brought a him a smile.

Tarn chortled again, his voice thrumming, and this time Kaon joined in, laughing along with him.

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_**END**_

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Notes:

I wasn't really sure how to tag this, so if you think I've missed anything please let me know. Anyway, the usual; first time doing a fic with either character, please let me know how I've done. Pop me a crit and I'll love you forever, but comments are always nice too.

Thanks for reading.


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